


Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo

by x_posed_again



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:43:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_posed_again/pseuds/x_posed_again
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soap is hurt and frustrated, Ghost makes it all better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo

Secrets don’t exist in the 141. Neither does personal space. Sleeping in tents, shacks and God only knows where else night after night, tracking down God knows who for God only knows what fucking reason left little room for solitude.

So Ghost wasn’t surprised when, after a long meeting with Shepherd, Soap slips away from the rest of the group and heads for their bunk. He knew his Captain well enough to know that Soap’s suicidal swan dive out the second story window after their suspect two weeks ago was hurting him more than he let on. He could tell by the way the man held his gun and checked his corners, too ridged to be effective in any combat situation. Ghost figures, at best, he has two fractured wrists, a broken rib and a bruised hip.

Not that his Captain would ever tell him this. Course not. Even if there weren’t secrets in the 141, they liked to pretend there could be.

While he’d love to give Soap some alone time, let him have a chance to wind down and decompress after another pointless mind numbing meeting with the General, it was hotter than bloody Hades outside. The showers in their bunk were calling to him, offering promise of the only relief in sight from the stifling Afghanistan heat.

They had served together long enough that Ghost doesn’t think twice before walking into the small bathroom while Soap was in the shower. There was nothing that tells him to stop as he pulls off his signature balaclava and khaki shirt and drops them onto the counter along with his MP5. What does stop him dead in his tracks is the sight of MacTavish desperately trying to jerk himself off with his right hand before groaning in frustration and slamming his palm against the wall…an obviously painful move that is quickly followed by a sting of curse words.

It wasn’t as if seeing Soap naked was new and different for Ghost. Hell, they had seen enough of each other over the years that Riley could pretty much tell you exactly where every scar the man has is and how he got it. And don’t even get him started on morning wood. But there was something about seeing his Captain in the act, watching him as his eyes tried to drift shut before the pain in his wrist became too much and he had to stop, that sent a shock right to own cock.

“You do know I’m in here, mate?” It was as good of a warning as he could muster.

“Go ‘way, Ghost.” The dejection in his voice made him worry about how much pain MacTavish really was in.

“You’re never gonna heal if you don’ take it easy. Punching walls is probably not the best way to accomplish that.”

Soap rests his hands on the back of his head as he leans his forehead against the wet tile.

“Take it easy? I haven’t been able to get off in over two weeks. Too much pain in my wrists. I’m wound tighter than a fuckin’ snare drum over ‘ere. How am I supposed ‘ta take is easy?”

Ghost’s interest is instantly peaked. Two whole weeks without even one solid wank? Oh, that should just be criminal. You weren’t afforded many amenities when you were a soldier, but the ability to get your rocks off whenever you bloody well wanted to should at least be one of them.

Slowly, an idea pops into the Lieutenant’s head and peels off the remainder of his clothing, discarding them on the dirty bathroom floor. The shower stalls were barely big enough for one man, let alone two, but Ghost manages to squeeze himself in under the spray so he was chest to chest with his Captain.

“Ghost! What in the ‘ell are you-”

“Relax, I’m helpin’ you.” Ghost replies matter-of-factly, as if his Captain should have figured out what he was up to. Soap’s eyes nearly bug out of his head and he opens his mouth to protest further, but stops the moment Riley’s fingers ghost over his length. A deep groan pulled from his lips as his hips instinctively buck forward.

“Ghost… you don’t… you don’t have ‘ta…” He gasps out, hands coming to rest on either side of the Lieutenant’s shoulders.

“I know…want to.” Ghost is insistent as he tugs at the Captain’s erection again.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” It doesn’t take much before Soap drops his head, letting it come to rest in the crook of Riley’s neck.

“See, isn’t that better?” The only response he receives in another desperate moan. “I knew you were hurt. Why didn’t ya just say somethin’?”

“What was the point? Wouldn’t change anything.” Soap’s breath feels like ice as it breezes by the water droplets clinging to Riley’s neck and the Lieutenant can’t help but shiver.

“Why won’t you ever let anyone help you?”

The Captain lets out a low laugh which is quickly swallowed up by a groan. His hips begin to slowly push against Ghost’s hand, seeking out any friction he can find. “You’re… you’re helpin’ me now.”

“Ya, that I am.”

Soap presses himself harder against his Lieutenant, the rigid muscles along the plane of his hips sliding against the other man’s groin.

“Bloody hell, Soap.” Ghost reaches out and places a firm grasp on the Captain’s waist. “Hold still. You’re distractin’ the hell outta me.”

MacTavish gives a small nod of understanding, but he needs to find some further outlet for his pent-up frustration. Ghost is pulling and twisting in just the right ways and the urge to pin him against the way and widely buck his hips against him is beginning to outweigh his better judgment. Fighting against the growing need pooling in his stomach, he gently winds his fingers into the wet locks of hair at the back of Riley’s head before pulling their lips together.

The kiss is soft and hesitant and not like either of them at all, but it’s the purity in the act itself… the way they melt together and fit like puzzle pieces that leaves both of them breathless and gasping for more.

Soap groans in frustration as he feels Ghost’s hand leave his cock and come to rest on the side of his face before he is pushed backward into the wall. Riley’s own hard-on is pressed into MacTavish’s leg and the Captain reaches down, tries to return the favor, but only manages a few strokes before pulling his hand back away and cursing in pain.

“’M sorry, I can’t...I…”

Ghost swallows up the words with another kiss.

“Let me just worry about you right now, alright?”

“Why are you doing this? Why…”

Riley leans forward so both their foreheads are touching, the hot spray from the shower now rolling down his back.

“You do everything for us, Soap. ‘Bout time you let someone take care of you for once.”

To emphasize his point, Ghost reaches down and gently rubs the palm of his hand over MacTavish’s overly sensitive cockhead.

“Fuck, Simon-”

No one ever calls him that anymore, and to hear it moaned out in a lust drunk haze is enough to make his legs begin to wobble under his own weight. Spurred on by the deep pants coming from the man pinned between himself and the wall, Ghost wraps his fingers tightly around Soap and begins to gently tug until the Captain is arching up into his hand.

It’s too much… the hot water, the feel of Ghost heavy against his chest, the slick slide of their bodies and Riley’s hand on his cock… it’s all too much and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. Being deployed for months on end did nothing to help build your stamina.

“Simon I… I can’t… fuck… just like that… God… yer gonna make me cum if ya keep doin’ that.”

Ghost gently tugs at Soap’s earlobe with his teeth. “That was kinda the point, Captain.”

Soap is beyond the point of being able to rationally and coherently answer the man. He grapples for words… comes up with “fuck” and then gives it up completely. Instead, he wraps strong arms around the Lieutenant’s waist and pulls him closer.

Riley would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying watching his Captain practically come apart at the seams. The way his eyes screw shut, head tilts back allowing the water to run down his Adams apple. Even the deep scars on the man’s skin looked less angry, less threatening than they had before. Ghost leans in and presses his mouth to one of the aforementioned scars that runs directly under Soap’s jaw line.

Ghost remembers exactly where he got it. Botched intel from Shepherd had them running from an exploding building as shrapnel and debris flew at them from every which way. Fiery 2x4s falling from the roof as his Captain pulled him out of harms way just in time, saving his life for the umpteenth time that year.

“If you could see yourself right now…” The words are out of Ghost’s mouth before he even has a chance to process them.

Soap gasps as Riley’s hand slides up his chest. Fingers trailing the lines of his muscles before the Lieutenant’s thumb is rubbing over his nipple sending shockwaves though his body while his other hand slowly… every so slowly jerks him off.

“Need ‘ta…. please….” Soap hopes to God Ghost understands what he is trying to say. He’s so close, so God damned close he can almost taste it. His hands are shaking and his legs are about to begin trembling at any moment. He pulls Riley closer until he feels their cocks rub against each other.

“I can’t concentrate when you do that shite.” Ghost is panting heavily at his side. His own hard-on sliding up and down the valley of Soap’s hip.

“Don’t care.”

“You’ll care when I can’t get you off because I am too damn distracted.”

“You always follow through, why do you think you’re my Lieutenant?”

“And here I thought it was for my dashing good looks.”

“Ya, that too.”

MacTavish pushes against the other man again, smiling as he finally pulls a moan from Riley’s throat.

“That’s it.” Ghost firmly places both hands on Soap’s hips and holds him steady against the wall. “I think you need a lesson in following orders, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir.”

And there it was. Soap’s way of completely turning himself over to the other man, letting him know that he trusted him in anything he was going to do. It wasn’t just anyone his Captain would allow this power shift to happen with and the thought made his head spin.

Riley sinks down onto both knees in front of him and slowly licks a trail up the hard line formed by Soap’s stomach muscles before running it over the length of MacTavish’s cock.

“God yes…” Soap tries to push towards the slick glide of Ghost’s tongue, but is roughly held back by a pair of strong hands.

“I don’t think so. What did I tell you?”

“Y-yes, Lieutenant.” God it felt good to lose control for once. To let someone else take charge… let someone take charge of him. Only Ghost… he’s the only one that… he’s the only one… ever.

Slowly, ever so slowly Ghost pops the tip of Soap’s cock into his mouth swirling his tongue around the slit as he does so.

“Yes… God, yes….”

Pleased by the quick praise Ghost slides further down, allowing his throat time to adjust to the new intrusion. Above him his Captain is grasping onto his shoulder for dear life.

As if the slow torturous slide of the Lieutenant’s fingers hadn’t been enough earlier, the velvet heat of his mouth was surly going to kill him. Soap about jumps out of his skin as he feels teeth gently graze down his length.

“Bloody ‘ell.”

Ghost doesn’t stop his torturous assault, enjoying every jump and flinch in his Captain’s muscles. Going deeper and deeper until he is sure he is about to gag.

MacTavish can’t take it anymore. The need to fall over the edge is too much to deny any longer. “Simon… ‘m gonna… fuck… ‘m gonna cum…”

Riley doesn’t even attempt to pull away, instead swallowing every last drop until Soap is left to collapse boneless against the tile wall. The Lieutenant’s strong hands continue to hold him in place as he stands back up, knees screaming and cracking as he does so.

“Bloody ‘ell, mate.” MacTavish can barley force the words out between heavy breaths.

‘Fellin’ better?” A smug smile crosses his face.

“You could say that, ya.” Soap reaches out and pulls the man against him once more. Ghost’s neglected cock pushing desperately against his thigh. “Now, what are we gonna do about you?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Ghost leans in and kisses MacTavish hard on the lips. “I’m sure we could think of somethin’, Captain.”

“Aye, that we can.”


End file.
